


A Life

by LittleSweetCheeks



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Allergic reaction, Angst, Gen, Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29472762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSweetCheeks/pseuds/LittleSweetCheeks
Summary: His job isn't this until it is. Some days he's the coffee guy, other days he saves a life.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

His job is this…

_‘Go find her.’_

The Secretary had pushed him back out of the SUV as she’d said those three words, assuring him over his objections that Jay could look after her just fine. He had doubts to that. As far as he’s concerned, Jay gives in entirely too much and he guesses Jay agrees by the ‘I appreciate your confidence in me, Ma’am’ that comes from the back seat.

His feet carry him back into the hotel even as his brain is still laying out the reasons why it shouldn’t be him. This conference is a big deal and the long days guarantee the Secretary will ignore basics like food and drink. _She_ needs him…

His job is this…

The bank of gleaming elevators is to the right of reception and calling one takes time he feels he doesn’t have. Glancing to the door for the stairwell, he deliberates, but their rooms are nine floors up and he shakes his head. The rest of the staff are rushing away in the motorcade but he’s here…

The morning had been a flurry of crazed activity and, somehow, no one had noticed until they had taken their places in the vehicles that one seat was empty.

Nadine was not among them.

Nine floors and then a right turn toward the far wing of the hotel. Their rooms are at the end of a long hall, carefully laid out based on years of learned preferences. He passes the detail’s rooms first, hears the off-duty agents milling about within, and then the doors, left and right, which are their own. Four rooms for under staffers, two to a side, and then Matt to his left, Jay to the right with Daisy next in line. To his left again, the large suite for the Secretary with himself across from her.

Four rooms to go at the end.

The last room on the hall always goes to Nadine. No traffic so she has peace and quiet, and empty rooms to the side. A tiny concession to the most senior member of their staff.

The hall is silent and he wonders for a beat if he could’ve passed her coming up as she was headed down.

Blake taps on her door and waits.

And listens.

And frowns.

“Nadine?”

He listens.

And knocks.

“Nadine? The others already left; we couldn’t reach you.”

Fishing out his phone, he presses speed dial two and then it rings… And then rings on the other side of the door.

His job, simply, is this-

He’s the coffee and phones calls guy. The schedule keeper, the paperwork chaser. He’s the one who makes sure the Secretary is where she needs to be, when she needs to be there, and he’s the one who does all the worrying in her place.

His job, less simply, is this-

He’s the one who absorbs it all; anger, fear, joy, tears. He’s the one who gives hugs when there is no one else and the one who makes sure the Secretary eats and sleeps, even if it’s his own food and requires him to be the pillow… his coat or blazer to be the blanket.

His job, somewhat complexly, is this-

When he met Nadine Tolliver, he considered her the strongest, toughest, most confident, person he’d ever known. He’d learned better since then. He’s discovered the side of her that isn’t as confident, isn’t as strong, isn’t as tough.

Pulling the collection of keycards from his pocket, he thumbs through until he finds the one for her room, replacing the rest along with his phone. There’s a deep breath, his hands are shaking, before the card slips into the lock, light flashing green before he turns the handle.

This is different. This is one of those things that isn’t a part of his ever-expanding job until it is. He’s wandered in and out of the Secretary’s hotel room so many times with her in various states of readiness that it doesn’t even phase him.

But this isn’t that.

His job is this…

He’s never been more hopeful that he’s about to be fired.

“Nadine?”

Being a corner room, it’s a little bigger than the rest, fitted out with a large king-sized bed and the usual desk and dresser. The curtains are open wide, proof Nadine had at least been up this morning, and the lights all on, the room lit completely.

He passes the bathroom first as he steps into the short hall, glancing in just in case. There are signs of someone getting ready for the day- a damp towel hanging primly, the fading hint of moisture in the air, makeup and hair product scattered across the counter, traces of familiar, high-end, perfume lingering. On the floor before the counter is a stack of two neatly folded towels, his lips twitch as he thinks he can make out the indentation of footprints. A makeshift step.

The bathroom, however, is empty.

Another step and the foot of the bed comes into view, his line of vision spreading in wedges as he passes the corner. A black blazer, still on its hanger, is laid out over the decorative fabric strip, leave it to Nadine to keep even that tidy, and a pair of familiar shoes wait expectantly beneath.

Near the windows, the desk is stacked with files, a mobile version of a desk back in DC. They all travel with their ongoing work; normal life does not stop for travel. The desk is covered in more than just files, however, and the sight of what looks like the entire contents of the massive bag Nadine carries at all times dumped out makes his heart speed up.

It’s not her style to make such a mess.

“Nadine?”

Another step and a sound hits his ears as his eyes tell him he’s seeing something he just can’t believe.

The armchair is near the bed and he surmises she was using it to ready for the day, but now she’s slumped, wheezing worryingly, eyes closed.

“Nadine?!”

She doesn’t move, doesn’t look at him, and he’s certain he’d be more panicked if he couldn’t _hear_ that she was still alive, still breathing.

He doesn’t even remember rushing around the bed, his mind too caught up on the way her normally near-white skin is now mottled with angry-red patches. He reaches out, too panicked to worry now about professional distance, and touches her, tries to rouse some reaction. The muscles in her neck and what he can see of her chest, which is a fair bit, are corded with the effort to breathe.

He’s seen this before, with his niece.

“What are you allergic to, Nadine?”

He wracks his brain, certain she’s never said a word, but then maybe she doesn’t know… That happens sometimes, he thinks.

His eyes land back on the disaster on the desk… Maybe she does know…

He takes her hands, cataloguing the way the red welts make them look puffy and swollen, and then pushes her long sleeves up, following a path of red until the fabric won’t go further. “We need to get you help.”

Her eyes crack open then and he freezes. All he can make out is blackness, but it feels as if she’s trying to say something.

“You’ll be okay.”

One hand in his twitches, keeping him there, and then her tongue darts out, attempting to wet her dry lips. The muscles in her face shift and he thinks she’s in pain, or struggling, but then she swallows and attempts to speak. “The gift… I didn’t know…”

He has no clue what she’s referring to until it slams into him.

After dinner the night before, they’d been gifted with baked goods. He assumes they were all the same- petit fours, tiny cakes with espresso mixed in. He’d had three that morning and had virtually buzzed through getting ready. His eyes search the room, finding the small silver box and then he stands, looking inside.

One single treat is missing. But then, Nadine doesn’t like coffee…

But they hadn’t known the flavor and the fondant, cake, and icing had all masked the smell.

He is certain she wouldn’t have tried if she’d known…

“You’re allergic to coffee.” It wasn’t a question now. It all made sense.

But if she knew…

His job is this…

He whirls around, searching the desktop for a bottle of pills; there’d be no way she’d travel without something. Coming up empty, he grabs her smaller handbag, the one she uses less regularly, and dumps it out into the mess, but there’s nothing there either.

Panic rises and a niggling thought in his mind says time is running out, extreme measures will have to be taken, but he has one last thought and it’s mostly a hunch based on a few too many trips where he was the one digging in the Secretary’s things on her behalf. He darts to the bathroom, this time opening every small pouch on the counter…

But still nothing…

Her wheezing becomes his own personal tell-tale heart.

He pulls his phone out but then shakes his head, there are faster ways to get things done in a hotel, and it’s always about speaking to the right people.

The room phone is on the desk and he drops one hand to her shoulder as he punches the sequence for the front desk. “Yes! This is Blake Moran, I’m with the Secretary of State. I- I need an ambulance to room nine-sixty-seven immediately.”

The wheezing changes to breathy gasps and he slams the receiver down, not caring that he should probably handle ending the call with a small amount more courtesy.

“Nadine!”

Her chin is lifted now and he can’t tell if her eyes are closed because she wants them that way or if it’s the hives covering her face.

“You won’t be dying today, so put that fear out of your mind right now.” There is zero chance in hell he’ll ever make _that_ call, the one that tells Elizabeth, because it would be Elizabeth then, not the Secretary, that someone had died on his watch.

Almost as a defiant objection to his declaration, her lips begin to tinge blue.

Medical help will take too long to find them, he decides. She needs to go to them. “I’m not leaving you. Hold on.”

It’s an abuse of high-end luggage that he fully intends to be shouted at for later, because at least then it’ll mean she’s not dead, the way he kicks her suitcase into place to hold the door open as he runs down the hall, already shouting names of the agents he knows are behind closed doors.

Heads pop out and he does his best to calm himself long enough to explain what’s happening. Two agents bolt for the elevators to head downstairs when two more follow him back to the room. “She can’t wait for them to come all the way up here.” He’s certain in that now. The elevators are slow and it only wastes time to make her wait twice. “We need to meet them at the door.”

The agents exchange a look, almost hesitant, and Blake takes it upon himself to do what needs done. “I have the keys, get the door.”

His job is this…

He scoops her up, dread growing in his gut at the way she sags limply in his arms. He’s careful that her head doesn’t bang on the doorframe as he rushes to the elevator, thankful when an agent is already there, holding one open.

“How is she?”

“Barely responsive.” The nine-floor trip feeling like an eternity. He shifts her slight weight, bringing her head closer to his shoulder.

The agent suddenly straightens. “The ambulance just pulled up.”

“Thank god.”

The doors slide open and he rushes to the medics rolling a gurney his way, rattling off what he knows. “I’m riding along.”

“We’ll radio the other team so they can let the Secretary know.”

Blake freezes and turns. “No!” He shakes his head. “Don’t say a word. Lie if you have to. The Secretary can not be distracted.”

The agent hesitates, clearly debating the instruction. “She’ll be angry for being left out of the loop.”

He can’t argue that. “Nadine will be angry if the Secretary walks out on those meetings. I’ll take my chances.” He has to believe this is true, Nadine will be just fine. Fine enough to be angry later.

The ambulance doors slam shut and Blake sinks into a seat, staring.

He has a job, a job description, a purpose, and a place.

But today his job is this… Today, he’ll save a life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's this now...

Realization of her error had come when she’d cleared her throat for the third time in under a minute. She’d looked up, into the mirror, and watched as her skin had begun to break out in angry red blotches. She was so unused to the flavor of coffee that she hadn’t picked it up in the tiny piece of cake she’d eaten quickly, washing it down almost instantly with the mug of hot tea she’d already prepared.

From there, her morning had quickly become a series of stolen moments as she tried to remember how to breathe.

Her chest burns as air is forced into her lungs. Swimming around somewhere in the back of her brain is the reassurance that this new, overwhelming sensation is help.

She remembers knowing that this time was it. This time she would die. One tiny mistake, two if you counted the failure to notice her medications needed replaced, and this was how she’d end. Alone in a hotel room with no one even aware.

Something bites into the skin of her left hand and she flinches. A vaguely familiar voice asks a question.

She remembers hearing her phone ring and then the beep and heavy clunk as a door lock is disengaged and the door opened. She remembers hands touching her, a frantic voice… shouting… and then she thinks she remembers arms cradling her. Rocking her. The memory is faint and distant and she wonders if the memory is really from her childhood. Perhaps this is a convoluted moment of her life flashing before her eyes.

Something grips her fingers, but all she can do is twitch them slightly in acknowledgement. Everything is distorted. She can’t breathe. Her world is bright and yet gray. Sound is distorted, like she’s hearing under water.

She remembers a voice telling her she won’t die, but she’s not sure how that can be the truth.

=*=*=

Blake watches as she fades out, hand still holding hers carefully so as to not jostle the IV. “What happened?”

“Drugs are on board, Sir, but she’ll still need monitoring and additional care. She’d not coding, so that’s good.”

“She absolutely can not die.”

“Is there someone who can make medical decisions?”

“I-” He has no clue. She’s single and has no family that he knows of. “She’s all alone, but she has me.” He’s being eyed warily. “We’re friends. I’ll find out more, but for now, she has me.”

Not just anyone has access to the senior staff’s personnel files. There have been too many close calls about their safety in the past so security agreed to make their information classified. Only two people can access it without additional clearance… Nadine and Elizabeth. “Fuck.”

=*=*=

“Has anyone heard from Blake or Nadine?”

Jay’s five strides back when he hears his boss ask it, again. They haven’t heard anything in hours and he agrees that it’s concerning. Neither alone are likely to go off the grid, that alone is worrisome, but both together? That had even his blood pressure rising. Worse still is the way he sees the DS agents tense when she asks it.

Something had happened.

“Ma’am? I’ll try them again and catch up.” He lies, but it’s a lie that gets her to move along. The moment he’s alone, he corners the newest agent, deciding it will be easiest to put the fear of god in him. “What’s happened?”

“Sir?”

“You all know something and you’re keeping quiet.”

“We’re under orders, Sir.”

The other agents look pissed and Jay knows it’s true. “Orders from who?” They only take orders, more or less, from the Secretary… or from one of the two missing staffers. “Did Nadine give the order?” Not even a blink. “Blake? Was it Blake who gave the order?” The agent swallows nervously. “What was his order?” Jay turns to all of them. “What did Blake order? That the Secretary can’t be told something?”

None of them are willing to look at him now. Blake can be overprotective and mildly neurotic, but when it comes to giving orders, he’s always a bit reluctant to step into those shoes. In fact, Jay knows that his friend will only start ordering the detail around when it’s life or death.

“Something’s happened to Nadine.” He turns, reading all their faces. “Something very bad has happened to Nadine. Because even if he ordered you to withhold information, he’d still call to keep us updated… Unless it’s something that would send the Secretary running.” Whatever it is is bad enough Blake thinks the Secretary will put it ahead of the job. “Is she dead?”

The agents exchanges looks.

His voice raises. “Is she _dead_?!”

“N-no. N-not that we’ve heard… Sir. Mister Moran rode in the ambulance, two of the off duty are driving separately to meet them there.”

Jay stares. The hall is silent for several beats. “Keep me updated.”

“He ordered us to lie if we had to so the Secretary doesn’t find out.”

He can understand that. “I’ll do the lying now.” He starts to walk away, begging his brain to come up with a lie to satisfy her questions, but six strides away, he turns back. “What do you know?”

The new agent hesitantly steps forward. “She was unconscious when he called for help. When he carried her out of the room, she was limp in his arms.”

Whatever he’s expecting, that’s not it. There’s no way he could expect the mental image of Blake carrying a limp and unconscious Nadine in his arms.

“Thank you.”

=*=*=

Standing against the far wall of the hospital room, it hits him all at once.

At the hotel he’d not had time to process his own feelings over the crisis before him, but now… Now Nadine is safely in the care of medical professionals and he has the freedom to _freak the fuck out_. Reaching for a chair, he crashes into it just as a nurse enters the room, giving him an alarmed look which he waves off. “I’m fine.” His hands are shaking horribly. “I’ll be okay.”

“Can you fill out some paperwork for her?”

“I can do my best.” He accepts the clipboard but his handwriting is atrocious from the shaking. He does his best, but suddenly he’s the one gasping for air and the memory of hearing Nadine struggling to breathe only makes it worse.

When the nurse returns for the forms, it’s to find him in the midst of the worst panic attack he’s had in his adult life. “I thought she was going to die.”

“She’s out of the woods now.”

“But what if she died?” He grips his stomach, leaning forward. “Oh my god.”

The nurse vanishes and returns. He refuses to leave Nadine’s side, but now he’s sporting a white band with his own name on it as well.

As if his day couldn’t get any worse…

=*=*=

He doesn’t miss the way one of the agents makes eye contact and frowns. He lies about calling Blake again and slips into the hall. “What?”

“Mister Moran had a small incident while at the hospital and is being looked after. He is conscious and still at Miss Tolliver’s side.”

“Hospital?!” Daisy’s hiss makes him jump. “Who’s at the hospital?!”

Jay puts out a hand to get her to lower her voice. “Something happened to Nadine.”

“And now _Blake_?”

“The Secretary can’t know. Blake’s orders.”

Her hand snaps up to cover her mouth. “What’s Nadine say?”

“She’s… not saying anything right now.”

“Is she okay?”

“… I don’t know.”

=*=*=

Waking up is disorienting.

There’s a click and then something tightens painfully around her right arm, she tries to pull away from it, but it’s attached.

Opening her eyes, she takes in the hospital room and then the wires and cords attached to her body. She’s dressed in work clothes, not hospital garb, so she thinks she’s not been here long and hopefully it’s nothing serious.

Blake is sitting in a chair under the TV, but when she calls his name, he doesn’t rouse. He’s in a suit, though it’s rumpled and his hair makes her suspect he’s been running his hands through it anxiously.

A nurse slips in before she can call Blake’s name a second time and gives her a soft smile. “Miss Tolliver, my name is Rebecca Peters, I’m your nurse for the next few hours.”

“Wha- what happened to me?” Her throat feels raw, her voice even deeper than usual.

“According to your friend there,” her eyes shift to Blake and back again, “you had an allergic reaction to something you ate this morning. He found you in your hotel room and called for help.”

It is fuzzy, but memories of her morning begin to come back. “And- and him?” She can see now he’s wearing a white bracelet similar to her own.

Rebecca looks nervous now. “He’s okay. I think it’s best if he tells you anything further. You’ll be under observation here for another few hours as part of post-anaphylaxis protocols. We don’t want you to have a rebound episode once we’ve discharged you.” She pats Nadine’s arm as she checks over the monitors. “Take it easy. Relax and enjoy the down time. Let your body recover.”

“Thank you.” She looks around. “Did my phone get put somewhere?”

The nurse shakes her head. “You didn’t come in with any personal belongings to my knowledge. He might have them though.” She gestures to Blake again. “Get some rest.”

Nadine watches her leave before looking at Blake again. He hadn’t stirred at all during the conversation, so she tries to say his name louder. “Blake.” He makes a small humming sound, so she adds a bit of authority to it and his head snaps up like he’d been burned.

=*=*=

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he is fully aware of waking up, the voice yanking him harshly from slumber making him first think he’s fallen asleep in a meeting.

Eyes wide, he stares. Nadine is staring back at him and for a minute, neither speak. He pushes out of his chair and crosses to the chair at her side, reaching for her hand to hold it tight. “Thank god, you’re awake.” He feels on the verge of tears.

“What happened to me?”

He stares up at her. “What do you remember?”

She clearly tries to recall but shakes her head. “The nurse said I had a reaction to something?”

“There was coffee in the cake.” He watches her try to make sense of that. “The Secretary made me stay behind to see why you were running late this morning. I- I found you.”

“I’m sorry.”

His face contorts in confusion. “For what?”

Something passes across her eyes, but when she speaks it’s about something else. “What happened to you?”

He feels his face heat up. “I needed a bit of help calming down once we got here and it hit me just how close we’d come to losing you. I- I nearly watched you die in my arms.”

She rolls her eyes and he suspects she thinks he’s exaggerating which, granted, he’s been known to do in moments of crisis, but…

“I literally had you in my arms, Nadine. You were limp, your lips were blue… I thought I was watching you die.”

=*=*=

Jay’s an expert at keeping things from his boss, Daisy not so much. He watches her closely just in case, but he’s not surprised when Matt reads her like a book and guesses correctly that something is happening.

Unfortunately, there is one safe place Matt can corner him that the Secretary is reasonably unlikely to follow.

“What is going on?” The question is out before the door clunks all the way shut.

Jay drops his head forward with a sigh. Matt has him trapped, caught fairly literally with his pants down as he’s standing at a urinal. “I don’t have an update.”

“…But?”

“Nadine is in the hospital.” He zips, flushes, and moves to the sink, watching Matt in the mirror as his face does a dance. “Something happened to her. Last I heard she was unconscious and…” He sighs. “Something’s happened to Blake since they’ve gotten there. Blake is radio silent except for strict orders to the detail that the Secretary absolutely must be kept out of the loop.”

“And Nadine?”

“Isn’t in a position to give orders.” He reaches for towels to dry his hands. “All my information has come through the agents since two are at the hospital with them. Blake doesn’t even know I know. And now you and Daisy know. This absolutely can _not_ get back to the Secretary. Got it?”

“Got it.” Matt reaches for the door handle. “Blissful ignorance is a look I pull off well.”

=*=*=

She hates hospitals. She hates the constant intrusions, the lack of productivity, the loss of power. She hates not having her phone or _something_ to keep herself busy and she really hates that Blake can ignore her needling. Clearly he’s mastered that skill putting up with their boss.

He’ll make an excellent father some day, she thinks to herself.

The nauseated feeling isn’t going to go away any time soon, she knows that so she pushes through. Looking around, she pushes the sheet off her body, thankful she was left fully clothed. “Blake, where are my shoes, I need to use the restroom.” Being the emergency department, rooms aren’t suite-style.

“You didn’t come in with any.”

She stares at him again.

“You didn’t exactly walk out of your hotel room and your personal effects weren’t exactly a high priority.”

As if this whole day hasn’t been embarrassment enough. “Great.”

“I won’t apologize for it.” He pushes on without a response from her.

Emotions rush up and she doesn’t know how to deal with them with an audience. “Can you please sit in the hall?”

“I’ll help you walk to the bathroom and back and then… yes.”

She wants to object, but she’s hooked up still to several things, things she thinks the nurse showed Blake how to temporarily detach. She wants to be angry and embarrassed at needing him yet again and for something so personal but the clock reminds her it’s been hours and now that she’s on her feet, she’s aware of how desperately she needs to go. “Thank you.”

=*=*=

He knows she doesn’t need his help walking, though he doesn’t miss the way she doesn’t try and hide a limp. He manages the IV bag and wires, following her in only long enough to hang them in the designated area before leaving her be.

In the hall, two agents are anxiously waiting.

“I’ll tell the Secretary once she’s discharged… Maybe once I know the day is over.”

“Mister Whitman knows something’s happened.” The agents exchange a look. “He doesn’t know what and he knows to keep quiet, but we thought you should know.”

“Thank you.” He debates calling Jay, but then decides against it. The bathroom door opens and Blake watches as Nadine steps out, taking the cords back as he walks with her back down the hall. “How do you feel?”

When she reaches for his arm, he offers it. “Honestly?”

“That’d be nice.”

He suspects the small noise she makes is a laugh. “My head is killing me and my stomach won’t stop cramping. Other than that? Everything else is ignorable.”

“But it’s there.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

He gets her back to the room before saying anything. “When I was in fifth grade, I got strep throat every six weeks or so, almost like clockwork. I hated feeling sick. I’d be dizzy, I wouldn’t want to eat… I knew what was coming. One day, and this wasn’t even the worst one, but it stuck with me, my class was in the library at school. Three friends and I were at one of the tables working on some essay we were researching. There were pencils and papers, school books and everything else on the table. And I just… I threw up. All over all of it. It went everywhere. Ruined books, ruined their homework, my homework, got in their clothes even… the carpet. I can still remember to this day wishing I would just die right then and there.” He helped her back into bed and replaced the wires where they needed to be. “Everyone had embarrassing things, Nadine. Believe me when I say there’s literally nothing you could talk about that would make me think less of you. The human body is what it is and there are things it does that are designed, no matter how unpleasant, to keep us safe and, generally, alive.”

“Nothing?” He doesn’t miss the arch to her brow.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. I have a sister, I have been in cohabitation relationships with men _and_ women. So… How do you feel?” He tries again, hoping she’s grasped his point.

She huffs, eyeing him for another second before realizing he’s being entirely honest. “My head does hurt, but some of that could be because of the dizziness. I still feel lightheaded which is common for me after an episode like this.” She toys with the edge of the sheet. “Cramping is normal too, though I’m only occasionally actually ill after.”

He’s watching her closely now.

“My chest hurts but as the monitors are saying I’m fine, I’m guessing it’s more anxiety that my heart finally giving out. I…” She looks away, bravado flagging. “I feel like I need to crawl out of my skin. The little things, the itching in my skin and in my throat, those aren’t so bad.”

When his hand takes hers, she’s a bit surprised. “What can I do to help?”

“… Make it go away.”

She expects his to look away, but he doesn’t. Moments of sheer panic aside, Blake is actually one of the steadiest and most dependable men she’s known in a long time. “I can access my Audible account from my phone, how about a book?” He offers. It’s all he has to give.

=*=*=

Walking to the motorcade, one of the agents pulls Jay aside. “They’ve been discharged and will be back to their rooms by the time we arrive.”

“Thank you.” It’s been a long and stressful day covering, but hell hath no fury like his boss being intentionally kept out of the loop on something. He’s watched Russell Jackson regret such actions, even the President has been dressed down in the past and now they, all of them, have collectively kept today’s events from her.

He doesn’t see this ending any other way than with her royally pissed at all of them. The only saving grace is he’s reasonably sure she can’t fire all of them at once. Technically, she can’t fire the agents at all, but Blake… Jay sends up a prayer that Blake makes it out alive.


End file.
